


Sunshine

by Ratling96



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 00:56:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19860910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratling96/pseuds/Ratling96
Summary: Just something soft and sweet!





	Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Just something soft and sweet!

It was a few weeks after the holy water/inferno nonsense and summer was coming to an end. In an effort to make the most of the waning season (and to get Aziraphale out of the bookshop), Crowley suggested the pair go on a vacation somewhere warm and quiet. They found a secluded beach, miracled a small cottage into existence, and made themselves at home.

The beach was so secluded that the pair could get away with a fair amount of behavior that would have otherwise been dangerous (like the cottage). As such, Crowley spent most of the first several days sitting on the beach, eyes closed, face towards the sun, his wings spread out like great solar panels to take in as much heat as he could. Aziraphale often sat with him, reading and occasionally watching with a soft smile. A few times, Crowley had glanced over to find the angel staring at him with such adoration that the only response he could muster was to pull his wing up as a wall between them. This was mostly to hide the fact that every time Aziraphale gave him that look, Crowley tended to forget how to breathe. 

Aziraphale, like the gentleman he generally was, did not mention that he knew quite well what Crowley was doing every time he brought his wing up between them. However, that did not  _ at all _ keep him from being just enough of a bastard to grin smugly into his book while giving Crowley time to recover. 

The cottage they had pulled into existence was simple, just a single bedroom home. Crowley and Aziraphale had started to spend the nights together, curled up in the bed. Neither one  _ needed _ to sleep, and dozing wasn’t really an easy thing after so much time looking over their shoulders for their respective bosses. But they had both found a certain comfort in laying still in the dark, speaking softly about whatever came to mind. Crowley especially was relieved to have the angel so close. When he thought he has lost Aziraphale in the bookstore, he was keenly aware of how many chances he had missed in telling the angel how he felt. 

On the seventh morning of their vacation, Aziraphale rose first, muttering to himself about crepes. Crowley remained in the bed, content to roll into the spot Aziraphale had occupied and wait for the angel to call him for breakfast. He had, apparently, managed to fall asleep while laying in the afterglow of the angel’s aura, because when he woke up the sun had risen enough to be in his eyes. Crowley bolted upright, not immediately recognizing his surroundings. The sound of the waves brought him back up to speed, and he got out of bed to go find Aziraphale. 

The angel was sitting on the beach in a position echoing the one Crowley used to sun himself; his legs were crossed under him, his wings out in a lazy sort of way, head tilted upwards slightly to welcome the sun. Crowley stood in the doorway of the cottage, amazed by the peace of the scene before him. After a moment, he walked over to the angel, grazing a hand along the top of Aziraphale’s left wing in greeting. He sat down and leaned against his shoulder, closing his eyes when the wing wrapped around him. 

“Ah, angel… is it just me or has something changed with your wings?” At this, Aziraphale brought his right wing forward, examining it. 

“What could you possibly mean, Crowley? Wings don't just ch-” Crowley opened his eyes when the angel went silent, looking over at him. Aziraphale was staring at his wing, looking so surprised that it would have been comical if he didn’t look so equally concerned.

“Angel…?”

Aziraphale turned to Crowley, eyebrows furrowed. “Wings don’t just  _ change _ .” He said it as if to state it so bluntly would make the change go away. 

Crowley shrugged, uncertain. He opened his own wing, showing the angel. Feathers that were typically black and flashed with iridescence had bleached to a color not far off from melted chocolate. Some of them, as they moved with the ocean wind, shimmered with a red similar to Crowley’s hair. 

“Honestly angel” Crowley smiled gently, trying to soothe “it sort of just looks like you’ve got a tan.” 

“Angels don’t  _ tan _ Crowley. In 6000 years, have you ever seen me tan? All that time spent in the desert, and I never tanned. And certainly never my wings!” 

They both looked back over at Aziraphale’s wing, still held out for examination. The feathers were no longer white, instead, they had changed to a pale sandy color. Some of the feathers were shot through with streaks so golden they almost glowed. Crowley considered the change and spoke softly. 

“My wings never bleached before. Like you said, 6000 years and never a change like this. But… things are different now, angel. We aren’t held to one side or the other, not anymore, the rules have changed. Maybe that means we have too. Plus...” Here he trailed off, nervous to voice what he was thinking. “This suits you, really. It’s warm. You look like sunlight. It’s beautiful, actually.” 

Aziraphale ducked his head and wiggled his shoulders in the way Crowley knew meant he was delighted. Crowley grinned, reaching over the run a hand along Aziraphale’s wing, ruffling the feathers slightly. 

Later that night as they lay in bed together, Crowley shifted closer until Aziraphale draped a wing across his chest. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, realizing this was as peaceful as he had ever felt. Even in heaven, well before the fall, things had never felt this good. A soft snore from Aziraphale seemed to be an agreement that things were better than either of them could have expected. Maybe their vacation would be extended a little further than originally planned, Crowley thought, as he started to fall asleep under the warmth of his personal, angelic sun. 


End file.
